


Retreat

by caketoss



Category: StarCraft
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caketoss/pseuds/caketoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vorazun seeks to pick the Hierarch’s brain regarding the future of the Daelaam, and ends up with more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retreat

A ringing quiet hung in the air upon the _Spear of Adun_. Though separated from the Khala, the solemn sense of loss felt by the Nerazim was palpable. The world they had called home for centuries had been obliterated just hours before, by their Matriarch Vorazun’s decision - she had refused to let their beloved planet fall forever into the keeping of Amon and the zerg.

Long after the day had faded to night, Hierarch Artanis at last retired to his chambers. Sprawling and elaborate in a manner that made him feel out of place, Artanis nonetheless took enjoyment in some of the luxuries the suite afforded him. Gingerly, he began to remove his armor, each piece snapping into place smoothly inside the armoire designed to hold the suit in levitation, formed as if dressing an invisible figure within. Donning a light belt and soft, white loincloth which he set gently into place upon his hips, Artanis lifted his hands and appraised the deep purple bruises that had begun to mottle the skin of his forearms. He noted similar marks appearing on his chest and legs, relics of the battering he had taken that day at the hands of the zerg. The ache of the familiar post-battle soreness had begun to settle into his spent body, and with a sigh, Artanis lifted and rolled his wide shoulders in a vain attempt to keep the encroaching stiffness in his muscles at bay. 

Realizing that he now wanted nothing more than to drift into a deep sleep in preparation for another day, Artanis moved into the antechamber and eased his weight stiffly onto the soft, plush bed, swathed in impossibly soft sheets woven into an ornate pattern of gold and white. Reaching a hand back to touch the capped tips of his severed nerve cords, Artanis considered the words exchanged with Matriarch Vorazun upon his return from the zerg-infested xel'naga temple on Shakuras. Was he indeed now truly Dark Templar, as Vorazun had deemed him? He supposed that as Hierarch of the Daelaam, the designation was fitting - he was now both Aiur protoss and Nerazim in one. 

Artanis was pulled from his thoughts when he felt another mind reach out to touch his. A female voice, strong and willful in the usual manner of the Nerazim Matriarch, was requesting to speak with him. 

*** 

Gone. One with the eternal night. Vorazun, despite having given the go-ahead to initiate the destruction of Shakuras, struggled to internalize that the arid, twilit planet that had been the foundation of a new age of growth for her people was now but a ghost of the past. But Vorazun took comfort in her surety that the traditions and culture forged there by the Nerazim would endure, burning bright even now as their future with the Aiur protoss seemed inextricably entwined… as part of the Daelaam. 

The Matriarch reflected on the events of the day that would now stand as an axis in the history of the Nerazim for centuries to come. It had been Artanis, the Hierarch of the Daelaam himself, who had chosen to risk his life to trigger the destruction of Shakuras, insistent on taking as many of Amon’s zerg with him as he could. And the zerg… their numbers reached beyond any she could have fathomed, swarming and creeping over the planet upon which the Nerazim had forged so much history. Although in the past, the Hierarch had seemed to express favor to the interests of the Khalai, it was becoming increasingly clear to her that Artanis may indeed care equally for both factions under his command - a leader truly fit to preside over the the unified protoss. Indeed it was she who deemed the Hierarch now as Dark Templar and Aiur protoss in one. 

A swell of emotion lapped at the fringes of Vorazun’s mind as she reflected on the words Artanis had spoken to her prior to delivering Shakuras to the eternal night. The Hierarch thought it befitting for Vorazun to decide the fate of their planet… The planet her mother, Matriarch Raszagal, had been so instrumental in shaping to the needs of the Nerazim and establishing the unique and enduring culture they held so dear. 

It was that culture that Vorazun worried after now. Although she held great faith in the strength in the ways of the Nerazim to persist into the future, there were still questions that beleaguered her. What if their mission to reclaim Aiur failed? Where then would the Daelaam call home? And what demands would they encounter, forcing them to shift and change or be lost forever to the sands of time? Vorazun shook her head. It was unlike her to get caught up in a whirl of hypotheticals. But nonetheless, she felt it would perhaps be beneficial to speak with the Hierarch, if for no more reason than to settle her mind and refresh her perspective on the present moment. 

The Matriarch departed her chambers into the golden corridor that wound through a series of private suites, constructed to house any protoss of import residing on the great arkship. Equipped with her staff and armor, hydralisk skull perched loftily as ever upon her right shoulder, Vorazun walked with her usual swift, intentional stride toward the Hierarch’s quarters. She knew it was more than likely that even at this hour, she would find Artanis awake and contemplative, knowing how little he tended to rest now that they had Amon and the workings of prophecy to contend with. 

Vorazun arrived before the Hierarch’s quarters and reached out with a gentle urgency to touch Artanis’s mind, issuing a frank request to speak with him. The Hierarch obliged immediately, and the doors to his suite slid apart to permit her entry. 

***

Forgetting his state of undress in his surprise at the Matriarch’s late visit to his chambers, Artanis exited the bedroom, nearly absent of any raiment whatsoever, to meet the Matriarch of the Nerazim. Immediately her brow cocked at the sight of him, striding towards her as if nothing was amiss, nearly naked and dappled in blossoming, angry bruises. And as if having realized his plight reflected in Vorazun’s gaze, Artanis’s crest mottled just slightly as he approached her. 

“Matriarch, what brings you?” The question was earnest, with no hint of annoyance on the part of the Hierarch due to her late and unannounced visit. 

“Hierarch. Your efforts today will not be forgotten by the Nerazim. I am… honored to have worked with you to deliver this blow to Amon, and to join with you now as Dark Templar.“ 

Taken somewhat aback by the candidness of her words, Artanis nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Matriarch. Our victory could not have been won if not for the assistance of the Nerazim.“ Artanis’s words were solemn, heavy with the weight of knowing what their victory had cost. 

Vorazun, though unable to touch Artanis’s emotions in the Khala, sensed that he too felt a heavy sense of loss at the fate of Shakuras. “It is now my concern to plan for the future ahead should we be unable to reclaim Aiur. There are many factors yet in play that–” 

The Hierarch knew where her words would lead - to a place he lacked the energy to ponder at present. Sternly, Artanis stepped forward and looked down into Vorazun’s eyes, shining a brilliant green in the soft light of the crystals floating in meticulous placement throughout the main chamber of the suite. 

“Matriarch. ” He addressed her sharply. “We _will_ reclaim Aiur.” 

Without another word, Artanis dared to lift his hands to Vorazun’s hips, swathed beneath an expanse of silken purple fabric that seemed to hang almost weightlessly from her slim, muscled body. Taking a small step forward, Artanis closed the gap between them entirely as his crest fell to rest against Vorazun’s, now deepening in color. Tense at the sudden contact with the tall, muscular body of the Hierarch, Vorazun raised her hands to Artanis’s chest as if she meant to push him away. But instead her hands lingered there, feeling the muscles beneath his soft, smooth skin, tight and swollen in the aftermath of the rigorous demand he’d placed upon them just hours before. The Matriarch’s eyes fell shut as she allowed herself to take in the Hierarch’s embrace. Shifting her weight forward, Vorazun moved to rest her head against the Hierarch’s chest, feeling his hearts beating steadily within. 

“Artanis…” Her voice was a whisper. The Hierarch moved his hand forward to trace his fingers slowly along her hipbone, before coming to rest at the crease of her thigh. Shivering as the gravity of Artanis’s intentions gently pressed in her mind, Vorazun allowed her hands to slide downward, her clawed, gentle fingers raking over the Hierarch’s bruised and aching flesh. Her hands trailed to rest on his stomach just above the clasp of his belt; a question. Artanis’s open and waiting stillness was her answer. Vorazun then moved without hesitation to unclip the garment, letting it drop to the floor. 

Emboldened by her own arousal, Vorazun reached between the Hierarch’s thighs, finding him fully extended and dripping with want. Artanis moaned softly at the contact. The sound sent a tingling warmth shooting down the length of the Matriarch’s spine, awakening in her a hunger long left unsatisfied. She needed her Hierarch, wanted him. His boldness; his broad, imposing body; the way he dove at every obstacle thrown in his way with utter conviction, fitting of one who was to be leader of the Nerazim and Aiur protoss alike… Vorazun surrendered herself entirely to Artanis in that moment. Though he could not commune with her in the Khala, Artanis could feel the lust, the frenzied need that he understood to be driven by a thousand tense moments they’d shared all too frequently before. 

Artanis’s fingers moved deftly to the fastenings of the Matriarch’s armor, unclasping it piece by piece. Vorazun did not protest until he reached her pauldrons - reaching up, she swiftly removed the hydralisk skull from her shoulder and placed it with the rest of her fallen garments on the floor. 

With the Matriarch nude before him, the Hierarch let his eyes settle upon the beautiful and strong leader of the Nerazim. Bereft of her armor and standing in his chamber, Artanis thought that he glimpsed for the first time a touch of vulnerability in Vorazun. But with only her signature veil left adorning her face, her gaze burned bright and dangerous as ever, betraying any misguided impression of her that passed through the Hierarch’s mind. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Artanis dipped, sweeping one arm beneath Vorazun’s leg and the other around her back. Lifting her almost effortlessly, Artanis held the Matriarch close, allowing her legs to wrap around his hips. The heat and dampness of her slit resting against his stomach coaxed his coiled need to strike, and Vorazun arched at the contact as her wetness covered the skin of his abdomen, dripping to coat the base of Artanis’s heavy organ. 

Shifting again, Artanis poised himself beneath Vorazun’s slick and shining entrance. And in a single motion, Artanis at last obliged the Matriarch’s desire, letting her weight drop as he thrusted forcefully upwards to take her completely in a single rough stroke. 

Vorazun cried out at the sudden intrusion that sent swells of sweet, heated sensation resonating through her body. Arms wrapped tightly about his densely muscled shoulders, she allowed her face to press against the crook of the Hierarch’s neck, reveling in the damp heat radiating off his skin. Artanis moved a powerful hand to slide down the Matriarch’s back, supporting her as he began thrusting in kind. With each push, the Hierarch lifted her slightly before letting her drop, allowing her to be impaled fully, over and over, on his twisting, writhing length. 

Needing more, Artanis strode to the nearest wall and slammed Vorazun’s body back against the smooth, cool surface. With the Matriarch trapped against him, Artanis plunged unabated into Vorazun again and again, using the support of the wall behind her to intensify the force of his onslaught into her smooth, clinging depths. 

“Ar- _TANIS!_ ” Vorazun cried out helplessly, her mind becoming quickly overwhelmed by the sensations and emotions that thrummed and built inside her. Burying her face in the Hierarch’s strong chest, Vorazun continued to weather the delicious pounding of Artanis’s thick organ into her body, now covered in a mixture of perspiration and her own juices that flowed freely to coat their thighs. 

Artanis redoubled his efforts as the looming edge of his climax approached. It was becoming too much: the hot, slick and impossibly tight depths of the Nerazim he’d claimed now for his own; the way the willful, fiery Matriarch was pinned and suspended against him, entirely helpless to his will. Vorazun’s moans grew louder and less restrained, her breaking voice sending spikes of possessive, primal desire through the Hierarch’s loins. 

With a choked and wild cry, Vorazun surrendered to her climax, ripping through her and causing her muscles to tense and pulse forcefully around the Hierarch’s swollen organ. Her eyes flew open as her body trembled with the force of her release, issuing streams of brilliant green psionic energy that contrasted sharply against the deep purple color of her flushed crest. The Hierarch was quickly spurred to the edge by the Matriarch’s burst of energy buoying her climax, groaning heavily as he too was finally overwhelmed. 

Entirely spent and suddenly feeling the effects of their fevered coupling in his screaming muscles, Artanis sank their weight gently to the floor, coming to rest on his knees. Vorazun slid back from her perch upon his thighs to sag heavily against the wall. Not wishing to lose any contact with the Hierarch’s body, now heaving with exhaustion, Vorazun curled forward and nuzzled her crest into the crook of Artanis’s shoulder. Artanis, perceiving the need in her gesture, reached to caress the tips of Vorazun’s severed nerve cords, sending a soft and tender wave of psionic energy from his palm directly into the Matriarch’s body. Vorazun felt herself melt completely as Artanis’s wave of warm, loving energy flowed through her cords and down the length of her spine. Although unable to join with her in the Khala, Artanis felt in that moment entirely one with the beautiful and incorrigible Matriarch, the unquenchable fire in her eyes temporarily reduced to a dim, restful glow. 

***

It was Artanis who moved first, gently parting from the Matriarch before standing to offer her his hand. “Come, Vorazun, and let us find rest in comfort.” 

The Matriarch took Artanis’s hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. But she had lingered far too long already. Perceiving the decline of his invitation, Artanis bent to assist Vorazun in gathering and donning her discarded armor. 

“Hierarch… I thank you for your counsel.” Her words were both playful and hard as she set her hydralisk trophy in place upon her shoulder. Having bent lastly to retrieve her staff, the Matriarch turned to face Artanis, her eyes shining clearly with their former intensity, lost only for a moment in the afterglow of their tryst. “We must meet again soon.”

Leaving the Hierarch no time for reply, Vorazun turned and made her exit. 

~

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to make this part of a series of shitty protoss ficlets, so please excuse my chintzy alliterative titles!


End file.
